


Imagine: Getting dirty with Cas when you give him a lesson on throwing pottery.

by webcricket



Series: Castiel Imagines [11]
Category: Supernatural
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-03
Updated: 2016-12-03
Packaged: 2018-09-06 06:03:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8737633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/webcricket/pseuds/webcricket





	

“May I try?” Cas’ eyes sparkled with curiosity, glancing between you and the bowl you’d just created on the pottery wheel.

“Really?” Pushing the stool back from the wheel, you pivoted to face him, brushing your arm across your face, leaving a streak of red clay across your chin.

“I’ve always wondered what it would be like to create something,” his fingers swept up to wipe the clay from your chin. “You’ve got clay,” he succeeded only in smearing the clay further as you stared back wide-eyed under his touch. His brows furrowed in concentration as he leaned down closer to you, inches from your face, working to remove the red smudge.

“Yeah, um, sure you can try,” you stuttered, grasping his wrist to get his attention, “Cas, don’t worry about it.”

He stopped, flashing his blue eyes wide to meet yours, gulping at the proximity, straightening up.

Gesturing to his coat, you smiled teasingly, “Might want to take off a layer or two first. As you can see, the clay gets everywhere.”

He peered down at himself, then back to your clay-streaked face, immediately shrugging out of his trench and suit coat and tossing them on a nearby workbench. He rolled up his sleeves, securing the folds well behind his elbows.

Standing from clearing the wheel, you smiled to yourself. If you’d known pottery was the way to get the angel to shed his clothes, you’d have introduced him to your hobby sooner, “Tie too.”

Obediently loosening his tie, he pulled it over his head and it joined the discarded coats. He deftly caught the apron you tossed in his direction.

“Now you’re ready,” you side-stepped out of the way so he could sit on the stool, gently nudging him closer to the wheel with your knee, “The foot lever operates the wheel. More pressure faster spin.”

Cas tried the lever.

You passed him a lump of clay.

He placed it gingerly in the center of the wheel.

“Nope, you’ve got to throw it,” you mimed the instruction, “you want it to stick. Just get it close to the middle, it doesn’t have to be perfect.”

Cas picked up the clay and threw it at the wheel with a satisfying thud. He angled his neck to peer into your eyes, seeking approval.

“Perfect,” you placed a small bucket of water beside the wheel, “Use just enough water so your hands glide easily over the clay. Now make a U-shape with your palms and try centering the clay.”

Cas complied, succeeding only in creating an awkward wobble as clay spattered everywhere. He let out a dissatisfied grunt, “You make it look easy.”

“Hey, even your father didn’t create Heaven and Earth in a day,” you squeezed his shoulder encouragingly, grimacing at the red palm print you left behind on his crisp white shirt. You figured with the proverbial waters now muddied, you might as well go all in on the lesson. “Like this,” you reached your arms around his chest and shoulder, chest flush against his back, cheek pressing warm to his ear, weaving your fingers between his, guiding them to the appropriate pressure, “firm, but gentle. You’re guiding, not forcing.” The wobble in the clay disappeared, “See?”

Cas beamed proudly at the centered lump spinning on the wheel.

The door to the workshop creaked open and you startled upright, using the angel’s shoulder for balance and getting even more clay on his shirt.

“Oh hey, sorry, didn’t know there was a Ghost moment going on in here,” Dean chuckled, grinning apologetically.

Cas offered Dean a quizzical stare, “There are no spirits in here, Dean.”

“Yeah, okay Swayze,” Dean exaggeratedly winked at the angel and pointed back to you, “Y/N, you left your cell in the library,” he held the phone up as proof.

You held up your clay-slick hands and shrugged.

“Right,” Dean glanced around before deciding the workbench seemed a clean enough location to set the phone down, “also, we caught a case, Sammy and I are hitting the road. You’ve got the bunker to yourselves so have fun getting dirty.” Smirking, he ducked out of the room, giving Cas a parting thumbs up.

“Swayze?” The angel asked as the door swung shut.

You suppressed a smile, cheeks flushing a shade pinker, “He’s an actor, and there is a pretty amazing scene involving a pottery wheel in one of his movies.”

“Would it help if I watched this movie?” He inquired seriously.

“Well, it’s not exactly an educational film,” you paused, biting your lip, pondering the possibilities.

Cas nodded, wiping his clay-caked hands across the apron, gazing up you with those mesmerizing blue eyes, “Then perhaps you could demonstrate the relevant points.”

“Perhaps I could,” the smile on your face widened as you wrapped your arms back around the angel, turning him back to the wheel, softly humming the tune to Unchained Melody.


End file.
